


Wild Heart

by arcsinx



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Friendship, High School, Long-Haired Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, Mpreg, Teen Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcsinx/pseuds/arcsinx
Summary: As it happens, Yuri Plisetsky is not just a problem teen. His grades are remarkably good, he seems to own a sharp mind and also a great fortune left to him by his grandfather. In any other world his future would've been brilliant. In any other world he wouldn't have fallen pregnant at eighteen, and wouldn't be so indiscreet about it. He says the father is his boyfriend, that they are in love and that Victor, his cousin and also the one who holds his guard, is pissing mad at him. When he finishes speaking he smiles. He doesn't know, or maybe he suspects, but he's shaken Yuuri Katsuki, a simple high school psychologist's life down to the core.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be writing this? No. This was supposed to be a oneshot that grew out of proportion. I'll add two chapters now because they're ready, but not sure about the likeability of posting more. Still, it's better than not posting at all. As it is, it'll remain complete, and you can even accept it as complete in your heart. I just might stop by some day and lenghten the story a little bit. As for the mpreg, there's no explanation behind it. This is not omegaverse because honestly, I wouldn't take the time to make it so. At the end of the day this is just another fiction so, yeah, boys fall pregnant. Also, please be patient with 'u's because they differentiate Yuri P from Yuuri K. Unfortunately. Is this whole story asking too much? Sorry :[]

Yuuri Katsuki is used to teenagers. At least, if asked, that's what he was going to tell you. In truth, he's learned how they behave, he can't predict them, nor understand them, but in some way, Yuuri is _used_ to them. He's grown to be out of necessity. With a psychology degree and few jobs in the market, when a private high school was hiring there was only one thing to do and Yuuri had done it. And he'd gotten the job. 

It was, overall, simple. He was allowed his own office, with a wooden desk and a private bathroom. There was even a fridge and a microwave where he could heat up his lunch. The children – because that's how Yuuri saw them - , were a little bit more complicated. 

Yuuri'd seen how they could be in movies, especially Mean Girls. Some of them wore black and liked rock bands, others were cheerleaders or football players; there were also nerds and drug addicts. 

Yuri Plisetsky, Yuuri's current patient, who is now sitting in front of him, loudly smacking a cherry bubble gum while glaring at Yuuri, doesn't fit into any of Yuuri's preconceived categories. He could be a rocker, he behaved like one: the smudged black eyeliner was telling and his vocabulary seemed to consist mostly of curse words. Yuuri'd spotted him on the hallways sometimes, though, and he didn't always wear black. Confusing. 

"My name is also Yuuri," Yuuri says in an effort to start a conversation. Plisetsky gives him unimpressed eyes, crossed arms over his chest as he makes a noise in the back of his throat and glances at Yuuri's name plaque on top of his desk. 

Yuuri can feel cold sweat beginning to form on his forehead, and nervously adjusts the plaque. It's a habit of his. He's always been very organized, to an extreme even. 

"So, Yuri," he tries again, glancing at the door that had just recently opened to reveal the principal's secretary, who'd introduced a reluctant Yuri and left. Yuuri wishes she would come back and announce he had the wrong patient, all her mistake, sorry. But she doesn't. Yuuri doesn't like to slack on his work, but he'd been in the middle of a solitaire game on his computer and wished to go back to it. If the patient was anyone else he wouldn't have minded. But Yuri Plisetsky is a challenge. And Yuuri runs from challenges. He isn't brave, he'd already accepted it. "Would you like to talk? I can be your friend, I promise I won't tell anyone anything you choose to tell me." Yuuri tries. It's an old strategy, befriend the patient, make sure he understands the relationship between a patient and its therapist. 

Yuri's answer is blowing on his gum. Once it snaps he goes back to chewing on it, and Yuuri's throat feels like clumping at the silent behavior that feels like an unspoken threat. 

"Sure," Yuri finally says. "I'm not in trouble. At least that hag can't say I am. She just wants another reason to bitch about me," Yuri whisks his long, blond hair to the side, "I've done nothing wrong." 

Yuuri looks uncertainly at the items in his office. At the far end of the room, the water filter leaks a drop that falls right on Yuuri's carpet. Yuuri licks his lips. "But surely, Mrs. Novachek wouldn't have-" 

"Yes, she would," Yuri squints at him, as though starting to question Yuuri's intelligence, "she hates me. She's a dictator, a bitch that has never seen a real cock in her life and now wishes I hadn't either." 

Yuuri has become somehow petrified by Yuri's choice of words. Even more so regarding Mrs Novachek, who was a nice human being and also Yuuri's boss whom he didn't dare question much less insult. Plisetsky looks around him, a displeased purse to his lips. "Shit, it's hot in here. Don't you turn on that shit?" He points with his thumb over his shoulder, at Yuuri's air conditioning. 

"Hun, it's – broken, I guess." 

Yuri rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'm not planning on staying much. You can just sign some fucking paper saying I have an attitude problem like the last guy and then I can go." Yuri looks straight at him, blowing on his bubble gum once more. It snaps, and then he raises an eyebrow at Yuuri, "Can't you?" 

Yuuri fiddles with the items on his desk. He wants nothing more than to sign a sheet of paper liberating Yuri and his vulgar mannerisms from his office, but there's something odd in what Yuri's said. "Actually, Yuri, maybe," Yuuri glances at the door, "maybe we could talk some more. The thing you said about Mrs Novachek, what did you mean when-," he gulps, "when you mentioned, or accused, without proof of course, but when you said..." 

"She hasn't seen a dick in her life," Yuri prompts unashamedly. 

Yuuri blushes, jumping on his chair. Plisetsky seems to find it amusing, and Yuuri fixes his tie uncomfortably. "The other part, when you said she wishes you hadn't? Because you've... What I'm trying to say is, have you ever engaged on sexual intercourse? Are your parents aware of that?" 

It takes a lot of effort for Yuuri to part with those words and it's not very gratifying when Yuri bursts out laughing in front of him. He can hear the clock ticking and judges about one whole minute before Plisetsky's laughter dies down. 

"Fuck, you're dumber than I thought," the teenagers says. 

Yuuri gulps. He doesn't like where this is going. He doesn't like being laughed at. He has to send Yuri away. "Now, Yuri, that's not very nice of you-" 

"Look, Mr Doctor, you're not very good if you can't see the obvious." 

Yuuri blinks. "The obvious?" He runs his eyes over Yuri. He seems like a normal boy under the eyeliner, his features feminine and delicate, which contrast so greatly with his personality. "I don't understand, Mr Plisetsky-" 

Yuri stands up with a sigh. When he holds his shirt up Yuuri's chin drops to the floor. 

The teen sits back without another word, rearranging his hair with a hand and propping his legs over Yuuri's desk. 

Yuuri doesn't even bother with the pink boots that drip dirt into his immaculate belongings, he's still too shocked. "Oh my god," and hyperventilating, "oh my god, oh my god, is that? Are you- Oh my god." 

Plisetsky smirks at him. "You bet." And without Yuuri's prompting, he starts talking. 

As it happens, Yuri Plisetsky is not just a problem teen. His grades are remarkably good, he seems to own a sharp mind and also a great fortune left to him by his grandfather. In any other world his future would've been brilliant. In any other world he wouldn't have fallen pregnant at eighteen, and wouldn't be so indiscreet about it. He says the father is his boyfriend, that they are in love and that Victor, his cousin and also the one who holds his guard, is pissing mad at him. When he finishes speaking he smiles. He doesn't know, or maybe he suspects, but he's shaken Yuuri Katsuki, a simple high school psychologist's life down to the core. 

"That's-" Yuuri stammers, "oh my god, I mean." He pauses. Yuri waits for him to gather his words respectfully, "would you like some water?" Yuuri jumps from his chair. He needs a semblance of normalcy desperately. He grabs the plastic cup with shaking hands, and presses the button on the filter and its buzzing sound starts. 

"No," Yuri says. He's looking at Yuuri over his shoulder, smile still in place. 

Yuuri drinks three cups of water. It seems like his throat has run dry. He doesn't look at Yuri, and throws the cup in the bin when done. He takes small steps towards his desk and falls on his seat with a sigh. 

"Yuri, the things you've told me... They're very serious." 

"I know," Yuri preens, "but I'm shit at birth control. It's none of Victor's business, of course, that's what fucks me up the most," he sighs, and then makes a whiny voice that is supposed to imitate his cousin's, " _Yuri, what would your grandfather think? What were_ you _thinking? Who is the boy, who is the father? I wish to call his parents._ He's a fucking lawyer, Victor, always thinks that the right words will make things un-happen, you know what I mean?" 

Yuuri looks away. "Hm, he seems to me like he's worried about you, Yuri. He's your parental figure and it must hurt him to think he should've taken better care of you." 

"You don't even know him and you're already fucking defending him?" 

Yuuri shrinks, but doesn't reply. "I think I'll want that water now," Plisetsky says after a sigh. 

Yuuri gets up and reaches for another plastic cup. Outside the tree leaves are blowing with the wind. The classes must be getting close to an end now and soon the parking lot will be littered with students. Mrs Novachek had promised Yuuri that he'd get a vacant spot for his car as soon as possible. That was two months ago. 

"Does your boyfriend-" Yuuri begins. 

"Beka." 

Yuuri frowns, "Becca? Oh, I thought-" 

"Beka, Otabek," Yuri rolls his eyes. "That's his name." 

"Oh, right," Yuuri blushes, and hands the cup to Yuri. "Does he go here? If he does it would be wise to bring him in too." 

Yuri frowns, and sets his empty cup on the desk. The material crinkles and the noise always irks Yuuri. "Fuck, no. Beka's way older than me." 

"Way older?" Yuuri's eyes bulge. "Oh my god, when you say-" 

Yuri laughs. The sound is loud and it makes Yuuri feel somehow ashamed of himself. 

"Beka is twenty," Yuri finally says. Katsuki can feel himself drawing a relieved breath. "He's his own man. Mom and dad are fucking rich, own an oil company. He has a ton of sisters and an older brother who is, like, fucking golden or something. But my Beka is different. They wanted him to run the company but he loves music. He DJs. You should listen to him sometime," Yuri's eyes glint and he seems to get this lovelorn, faraway look, "he's fucking brilliant." 

"I don't know about that. But this Beka, is he aware of your, hm, state?" 

"Oh, yes," Yuri's eyebrows raise, "he was the one who found out. He was in medical school for a year before he dropped out. He'd have made a hot doctor. I should show you his picture so you could drool. You don't even know the best part, his dick is huge-" 

"Ah, Yuri, Yuri, please," Yuuri cringes, holding out a hand to stop Yuri's flow of words. It works, but Yuri still smirks at him as though he's just realized another flaw of him. 

"You don't like talking about dicks much, do you?" Yuri teases, "I could tell. Well, I like dicks. Talking about them, licking them-" 

"Yuri, for god's sake," Yuuri takes his seat back. He can feel his face heating, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Who would know that this could be so physically tiring? Yuuri doesn't know if his feet are still touching the floor since Yuri'd told him about his... predicament. Yuuri didn't know people like that existed, that lives like that were led out of television. "Look," he restarts, "there's a lot we have to work on here. This situation- oh my god, are you throwing up?" 

Yuri looks up at where he has suddenly crouched over Katsuki's bin, a hand to his mouth. "Dude, you need to fucking lighten up. I was just spitting my bubblegum," he holds it out for Yuuri to see. 

Yuuri looks away. "Oh god, okay, just, do it, please," when he hears the sound of something dropping inside the bin he turns to Yuri. "Yuri, you seem like a nice young man," he lies. 

Yuri's eyebrows lift unsurprisingly. "Ow, thanks." 

"Yes, and, I think we have a lot more to discuss. Your living situation, your family problems, your pregnancy. That's not something an average student goes through." 

Yuri gives him a smart-ass grin. "Mr Pig, you know nothing about this school if you say so." 

Yuuri chooses to ignore the nickname. "But- I've- I've never seen-" 

"They abort them," Yuri states. For the first time a different silence falls around them. 

Yuuri finally manages to get his composure back and clears his throat. "Well, in any case, I'd like to see you. Regularly." 

"Oh, are you taking me in? How fucking kind of you. I must warn, you'll get your hands full." 

"Yuri, seriously. I-" Yuuri glances at the ceiling. It's difficult to be honest with a teenager. But Yuri had been honest with him, at least as far as he knew no one would be so inventive as to create such a story. "I've never really dealt with a patient like you. And I think, I think you need help. And I would appreciate it if you let me help you." 

Yuri doesn't say anything. He's watching Yuuri with a face he hadn't seen before, sober and without mocking. Yuuri turns his gaze to his computer and works out a timetable. "Are Mondays and Fridays good for you? Around this same time? One hour per session, maybe more if it-," he sighs, "if it comes to it." 

"I have ballet on Fridays," Yuri speaks up. His face hasn't changed but his green eyes spark differently. "But Thursday is good." 

"Great," Yuuri gulps. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into. "I'll see you next Monday then?" 

Yuri sighs. When he gets up from his seat his hand goes to his belly automatically. It's nothing more than a small, round shape. "Yeah, yeah, something like that. Oh, could you bring something to eat as well? And maybe work out that air conditioning. I like pirozhki, dripping with grease, preferably."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri takes notes for every session and every character in Yuri's life. They're shown at the end of the chapter.

It's five fifteen by the time Yuri shows up. Yuuri had begun to cold sweat again. A guy had showed up to fix his air conditioning and when he left Yuuri had cleaned the office in preparation for Yuri's arrival. Just his fashion to arrive fifteen minutes later and leave Yuuri to steam in his own misery. 

The first thing Yuri does after closing the door is glancing at Yuuri's desk. "You didn't bring the food," he states. 

Yuuri folds his hands on top of his lap. "I did, actually. It's in the fridge. I'll heat it once we're done, that way I'll have a reason to keep you around." 

Yuri rolls his eyes with a snort. "You must be fucking dying to know about my affairs." 

Yuuri freezes, "that's not, Yuri, I only want-" 

"Oh, gods," Yuri flops down on his chair, bringing both hands up to his temples. "When you whine like that I swear I can only hear a pig squealing," he drops his hands to his lap, assessing Katsuki. "So, how should we start? I need to get this shit done, I'm hungry." 

"Ahn, I prepared some topics," Yuuri reaches for his files. He'd highlighted the most important points last night before going to bed. Organization was key. 

Yuri watches him critically. "You're like a fucking saint," he says, and then supports a brand new iPhone on top of Yuuri's desk. His nails are painted silver, the nail polish chipping around the edges. He watches Yuuri watching it, "Lilia fucking hates it when I paint them. I like the color though, and I do it for Beka even if sometimes he doesn't notice it." 

Yuuri blinks. "Who is Lilia?" He reaches for one plain file. 

"My ballet instructor. She is a pain in the ass. Hey, your thing is good again," Yuri indicates the air conditioning. 

Yuuri draws the final dot on _Lilia. Influence: ballet instructor._ on his file. "Oh, yes, someone came up to fix it a while ago." 

"Does that bitch know we are doing this?" Yuri suddenly asks. His eyes are narrowed in Yuuri's direction. 

"Oh, no," Yuuri fights the need to hide behind his clipboard. "Mrs Novachek isn't aware of your treatment-" 

"Treatment?" Yuri emphasizes the word. 

"She isn't aware of our conversations," Yuuri reiterates with a gulp. 

"Are you sure?" 

Yuuri nods. To his happiness, Yuri drops it. "Whatever. So, what do you want to know?" 

Yuuri clears his throat. He looks down at his filled in file. _Family: parents?_ stands out in yellow highlighter but Yuuri suddenly decides to skip that question. "Maybe we could start with your boyfriend. You seem to hold him dearly," Yuri, surprisingly, blushes. It's not strong, just a dust of pink on his nose. Yuuri hides his smile. "So, Yuri, how did Beka come into your life?" 

Yuri's gaze falls to the edge of the desk, seemingly lost in thoughts. He gives a small smile. "He was a fucker." 

\- 

Yuri doesn't like the kids on his street. Mostly, because they're just that, kids. Not his age, not even close to it. They range from seven to thirteen and are mostly loud and little brats. There are babysitters supposed to watch over them but all they do is sit around and type on their phones. Every once in a while Yuri can hear them shouting after the kids. In a summer like this they want to play on the streets, and drag out their bicycles, skates and other shit onto the street. If Nikolai were alive he would complain about them. He surely loved complaining. 

Mila doesn't want to hang out because she's at the beauty saloon with her mother, the bitch- 

\- 

"One minute, please," Yuuri interrupts the narrative. Yuri gives him the stink eye. "Mila? Who is that?" 

"My friend. We know each other since, like, eight? I used to punch the boys that called me a girl and she laughed." Yuri informs, and frowns at Yuuri's hurried scribbling. "She's a bitch but-" 

"Hold on," Yuuri holds out a hand. "We can talk about Mila later. But right now let's focus on your boyfriend, right?" 

Yuri's phone vibrates on the desk. He reaches for it before snorting and leaning on his chair. "Yes, Beka, you want to know about Beka." 

Yuuri nods. "So, Mila didn't want to hang out..." 

\- 

Mila wasn't hanging out with him that day because she was out doing her hair with her mother. Bitch. Victor had left for a hearing and only advised the house staff to keep an eye on Yuri. It was hot and stifling, and Yuri couldn't stand to watch the street from his window anymore. 

Radiohead's _Creep_ is playing on his laptop and Yuri shuts it down because he can't stand the melancholy anymore. He's never felt particularly driven to the lyrics, Yuri had never liked anyone to go as far as saying they looked like an angel and cry over their skin. 

His closet is cluttered and the way he takes out and tests each one of his skirts doesn't help, throwing them on the drawer carelessly. He'll have to ask one of the house staff to clear it later. He takes out a pair of shorts. They're black and ripped in the scarce space that is made to cover the top of his thighs. They were called booty shorts when Yuri bought it on the internet, and indeed, the bottom leaves Yuri's cheeks showing. Just a little. Just enough. 

He watches himself on the mirror. "Sweet," he decides, and puts on a white tank top that hangs around him. His converse shoes don't feel the same on his feet since he decided to take up ballet, but Yuri wriggles his toes in and grabs his skateboard before going downstairs. 

"Yuri, dear?" It's Anya, the housekeeper. She's a little bit in love with Victor, Yuri supposes, because she seems to be the only one to still think she can make Yuri behave, as per her boss' wish. "Where are you going?" Her eyes fall on his skateboard, and her lips purse sourly. "Oh. Mr Nikiforov said you should stay a safe distance away from these, dear." 

"Did he, _dear_?" Yuri replies sickeningly. He puts on his protective helmet while Anya crosses her arms and watches him reproachfully. "Mr Nikiforov can go fuck himself. I'm going out," he points at the door. 

"Out where?" Anya still inquires. 

"Just out, woman," Yuri screeches, and closes the front door after himself. 

He should've put on sunscreen. With the way the sun is high on the sky it wouldn't take long for his skin to start to pink. And short lines were no good. Whatever. 

"Hey, Yuri!" 

It's Ivan, the neighbor's son. He's eleven and went after Yuri like he hung the moon. Yuri sighs, heading for the sidewalk and ignoring Ivan's shoes running after him. 

"You out to skate as well? Look, my father got me a new skateboard," he reaches Yuri, holding up his brand new skateboard for his inspection. It's blue and has small yellow stars on it. 

"Nice," Yuri comments nonchalantly, and drops his plain black skateboard on the ground before hiking up on it and kicking the ground. For a moment there's only the wind on his face before Ivan catches up to him. 

"You can borrow it if you want," the kid says, following Yuri down the sidewalk. He is looking at Yuri with a high blush on his cheeks. Yuri sighs. 

"Ivan, I'm too old for you." 

Ivan giggles. "I'll be old too one day. And then you'll be my boyfriend, won't you, Yuri?" 

This boy can't even be serious. Yuri laughs, which only seems to make Ivan even more mesmerized. "You didn't even reach puberty yet, Ivan." 

"What is that?" 

Yuri shakes his head. "You're not a grown boy yet." 

"Yes, I am," Ivan insists, and follows Yuri down the street when he increases his speed. 

"Is your head the only place you have hair?" Yuri asks over his shoulder. 

Ivan touches the top of his helmet self-consciously. "Yeah." 

"Then you're not grown yet," Yuri smacks the boy's head and pushes him away. Ivan screams indignantly and almost drops out of his skateboard. Yuri smacks the ground with every kick until he's sailing down the smooth sidewalk. He's almost reaching the end of his condo now, the houses further apart from each other, only looming gates visible. There's a gathering at the end of the street, a bunch of guys assembled in designer jeans, leaning on their Ferraris. 

They're laughing loudly and speaking in a teasing tone. The Ivy League crowd. One of them, with an undercut and clear blue eyes seems to be the loudest, laughing and slamming his hand down the hood of his Audi as he clutches his belly. JJ. Asshole. 

Yuri feels the need to bare his teeth, and brings his skateboard to a halt. He's miscalculated though, he's close enough to have made out their faces, so they're close enough to have made out his. Yuri turns on his skateboard and faces the way he came. He's about to set foot on the ground for impulse when the catcalls come. 

"Hey, babe," one of them jeers, a voice that does not belong to JJ, "where you going? You want a ride?" His friends whistle and laugh. 

Yuri turns around sharply to flip him off. "Oh, fuck off." 

He can see the way the guy's face draws a blank. He hadn't noticed Yuri was a boy. 

\- 

"Is that Beka?" Yuuri can't help asking. He's barely jotted anything down, so anxious to meet Yuri's boyfriend. 

Yuri rolls his eyes. "Ew, fuck no. Let me finish." 

\- 

The guy doesn't give up. "Come on, sweetheart. Didn't know you had a dick but we can work that out. Huh? What's your name, beautiful?" 

He's going after Yuri, his friends following in a slower pace for moral support. 

Some people can't take a hint. Yuri clicks his tongue and kicks up his speed. He hears something falling on the ground and a sudden emptiness in his pocket. "Oh, shit," he steps down to a halt and looks behind him. The guy has already gotten a hold of his phone. Victor will kill him if he's cracked the screen again. 

"Sugar, you want my number that badly?" The guy jeers, looking down at the screen, thankfully not cracked, Yuri notices. "Shit, babe, you're so hot," Yuri's lockscreen is a selfie of himself at the beach. Not that this random dude needed to see that. 

"Give that back, you asshole," Yuri plucks his skateboard from the floor. He's not supposed to injure other people with it, per Victor's careful explanation, but damn it if he isn't giving that guy a concussion. 

Another one of his friends, though, a sensible one, reaches him before Yuri. At first Yuri thinks it's JJ, but his skin tone is darker and JJ had never worn a leather jacket in summer and looked that good in it. The newcomer elbows his annoying friend to their friend's boos. 

"Give it back, Darik, come on," he says, and reaches for Yuri's phone on the guy's hand. 

"Oh, relax, Beka, look, he's come to talk," Darik looks up at Yuri, who has death on his eyes. 

"Are you fucking deaf?" Yuri claws for his phone. The dickhead dodges it and his friends snicker. 

"Darik," the other man intervenes sharply. Darik opens his mouth but the newcomer, this Beka, snatches the phone from his hand with surprising speed. He earnestly hands it out to Yuri. 

Darik and the rest of the bunch make booing sounds and taunt their friend, but walk away from them at a slow pace. Yuri is barely paying attention, because undercut number two has the darkest pair of eyes he's ever seen and he's giving him this searching, honest look when Yuri takes his phone back. He wears fingerless gloves. In the summer. Cool. 

"Thanks," Yuri has half a mind to say, even though he shouldn't as the situation could've been avoided had Beka's friends not been morons. 

"Sorry about that. Darik is a bit thick," he apologizes and looks over his shoulder. His friends are at a moderate distance, still criticizing his gentlemanly ways. He turns his eyes back to Yuri, checking him out quickly, though he does his best to hide it. Yuri doesn't hide his grin. 

"Yeah, you can say that," he pockets his phone, slowly pulling a lock of hair away from his face and looking up at Beka under his eyelashes. It's the smoothest move he has. The last guy he'd hooked up with at a party said it was killer. 

Beka opens his mouth once more before giving a step back. Yuri is still watching him when he looks over his shoulder at his friends again and turns back to Yuri. "I'm Otabek, by the way." 

" _Otabek_ ," Yuri repeats softly. Otabek grins slightly at it. "I'm Yuri." 

"Hi, Yuri. Sorry about my stupid friend," Otabek says. His friends are still shouting after him but he ignores it. 

Yuri takes his skateboard and walks alongside him. "Yeah, he's a right asshole." 

"Do you live nearby?" 

"Yes," Yuri says, "two streets over." 

"I think I saw you once," Otabek confesses. "I take that street when I'm on my bike," he indicates the glinting black motorcycle resting next to his friend's cars. There's a sort of pride behind his words, a little like showing off. Yuri does love a guy with a bike. And a guy that looks like _that_ … surely it was asking too much. 

Yuri snorts. "Oh, so you are the one who goes down the street making that noise. I think my cousin is about to file a noise complaint on you." Victor said that damned bike made his headaches worsen. "But you don't live here, do you? I don't think I've ever seen you." _I would've remembered_. 

"Oh, no, I live at the other side of the city. I only stop by for JJ's parties." 

Yuri is about to ask if he'd been to the last one when the sound of a skateboard rolling sounded behind them. It was Ivan, glaring at Otabek when he came to a stop beside Yuri. 

"Who are you? You were shouting at Yuri, I saw it. Go away, Yuri is _my_ boyfriend," Ivan states with all the petulance of an eleven year old used to getting his way. There's something in his stance that hints that he's almost shitting himself for facing a guy like Otabek, twice his size in all matters. 

Otabek looks between Ivan and Yuri, fighting to hide a smile. "Oh, really?" 

Yuri's face burns. How could a boy have such a terrible timing? And to say that in front of Otabek! Yuri shakes his head and snorts. "He is not," he tells Otabek, very firmly. 

Ivan's face flames. Otabek only smiles. "Good," he says and before he can go away Yuri steps up to him. He wants to say something, he doesn't know what, but something flirty that was sure to make Otabek's knees buckle the way his voice seems to do to Yuri's. 

Yuri looks over his shoulder at Ivan. "Ivan, could you-" he makes a shooing motion. Ivan glowers. 

"I'm not leaving you alone with him!" 

"Just step back," Yuri says, and Ivan crosses his arms, giving a small step back. Yuri sighs and turns to Otabek. "Sorry about that, he's-" he rolls his eyes. 

"It's sweet. He has a crush on you." 

"Yeah, it's a fucking pain in the ass. I-" he looks over his shoulder at Ivan and turns back to Otabek. "I can have your number. I suppose," Yuri forces himself to say. He'd promised himself he was too proud to ask for anyone's number. Only losers did that. Yuri Plisetsky affirmed it because Yuri Plisetsky got his way. 

Otabek smiles teasingly. "I can hardly deny you anything when you speak like that." 

Yuri flushes and waits for Otabek to finish typing in his number as a new contact. He'd made sure to flash him the picture on his lockscreen but Otabek hadn't made a comment. But he'd _seen_ it. He hands Yuri's phone back to him. "Here. Hit me up whenever," he winks at Yuri and walks backwards towards JJ's house. 

"I will," Yuri promises and goes back the way he came, looking over his shoulder until Otabek's form becomes blurry. 

\- 

Yuri gets up to get himself a water cup. Yuuri is still processing everything. 

"So Beka, that is, Otabek, he is friends with the man who harassed you?" Yuuri asks once Yuri goes back to his chair. 

Yuri makes a face. "They don't talk much. That dickhead is JJ's friend mostly. They had JJ as a mutual but didn't like each other. Beka still fucking hates him. And Beka hardly hates anyone." 

"And this JJ?" Yuuri taps the end of his pen on the clipboard. "Where do you know him from?" 

Yuri sighs. "I thought it was obvious. He lives in my condo and threw parties at his house. I used to frequent." 

"Used?" 

Yuri glares at him. "Is this the fucking Inquisition? Yeah. Used to. I then realized he was an asshole and stopped going anywhere near him." 

Yuuri is still suspicious, but Yuri's attitude and his short answers seem to indicate that he won't be talking much any longer. "Ok, then. And the boy, Ivan?" 

"The pest," Yuri rolls his eyes. 

"He seemed to have a crush on you." 

"He's meaningless," Yuri looks down at his nails, "he still hasn't accepted me and Otabek are together. You should've seen his face when he heard _the_ news," he points with both fingers at his belly. 

Yuuri gives a tight smile. "Mustn't have been easy..." 

"Oh, he must have been devastated," Yuri smirks and rolls his eyes. 

Yuuri cocks his head. "Children are very sensitive, Yuri. Events that make them sad can grow to be a problem in the future." 

He doesn't know if Yuri takes it as a jab or if he sees some meaning behind Yuuri's words, but his expression turns colder and he avoids Yuuri's eyes. Yuuri was right to avoid the _Family: parents?_ topic. 

"I don't think it'll affect him in the future that I was pregnant," Yuri finally says. 

"I don't think it will either," Yuuri sets his clipboard on the table with a smile. "So, the pirozhkis!" 

"Fuck, thank gods, I thought you'd never get them," Yuri smooths a hand on his belly. 

 

\- 

 

 _Be ~~cc~~ ka, Otabek. Influence: boyfriend._  
_~~Money~~ Med school dropout. DJ, music._  
_Acquaintances: doubtful. ~~Friends with harasser~~ Influence: bad_  
_Protection. Influence: good._  
_Motorcycle, dangerous ~~unstable personality?~~_

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on my completely unrelated tumblr for my series: [@notyourusualfairytale](https://notyourusualfairytale-au.tumblr.com/). Private messages, please, if you want to talk about this story in particular. Thanks for reading and sorry!


End file.
